


Batgirl (Finally!) Earns Her Wings

by TottPaula



Series: The Adventures of the Young Crusaders [1]
Category: Batgirl (Comics), Batgirl - New 52, Batgirl - Year One, Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman: The Animated Series, The Batman (Cartoon)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst and Humor, Barbara calls herself Bat Woman, Barbara uses her brains, Bruce dubs her Batgirl, Bruce is impressed, Creeping Severed Hand, Crime Fighting, First Meetings, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 20:23:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16730127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TottPaula/pseuds/TottPaula
Summary: How can a new crimefighter in a home-sewn uniform prove she deserves a chance to fight crime beside Batman?Batman discovers her as she's attacking a pair of arch-criminals. He finds she's James Gordon's daughter, Barbara.He tries to persuade her not to become a crimefighter, and warned her to stop, but she's not intimidated.She captured Mr. Freeze before Batman appeared, in time to free her from Clayface's solid grip.She proves she's proficient and capable, but Batman doesn't want her battling Gotham's criminals, it's dangerous for a teenage kid.She wants to break through his obstinacy, even Batman requires help occasionally.Gotham is too much for one person to defend.





	1. Take Me On (As An Ally) Batman

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [New Wings -A Batgirl Fan-Fiction](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/435595) by Franklin Ritch. 



> Wanted to rename this 'Barbara earns her wings', but renaming usually messes with your saved bookmarks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barbara Gordon is returning from one of her first nights as a new crimefighter, but coming home she finds that her identity is no secret to Batman, thanks to a rapid DNA test.
> 
> That was fast! And... How did he beat her home?
> 
> Maybe she's got to learn not to leave so much hair behind, or better yet, not to underestimate Batman's skills and speed.
> 
> Even if he is a bit of an ass!

**Barbara Gordon's bedroom**

 

It's late Saturday night, and Barbara's wearing her new crimefighting uniform and is tortuously crawling into her bedroom window, catching her boot over the window ledge and stumbling to the floor.

She lies flat on the floor, gasping for breath for a few moments.

She's bruised, scratched, and is still bleeding from scratches on her face and nose. She's had a long night fighting against two of Gotham's more dangerous arch-criminals.

She removes her cowl and the white cloth she uses to hide her eyes, tossing it on her bed. She has yet to figure out how to make her own white lenses, and money is scarce for anything technical.

She's sweaty and a thin trail of blood from her mouth is running down her chin,  a cold clay hand is still firmly clutching her lower arm.

It's been there a while, and it's cutting off her circulation. Thank goodness that's one of the only souvenirs she has from tonight!

She mutters to herself, “This had better get easier soon, whew!”

Her hair is a mess and she looks exhausted. Fortunately, she usually bounces back fast.

Having caught her breath she gets up to grab a hammer and uses the claw end prying the rest of Clayface's hand from her arm, letting it fall to the floor then angrily crushing it under her boot.

Barbara gathers the broken clay pieces drops them in a trash bag and ties it leaving it on her chest of drawers.

Using the mirror, she cleans the blood and wipes dirt from her face, then uses makeup to hide the new scrapes she earned tonight.

Her room is a typical teenage girls room with tiny pink lights strung from the ceiling, a computer and laptop are both on and a sewing machine on a corner desk.

Unfastening her belt and bag, she kicks them under the bed.

She looks satisfied, pleased with her achievement after her first night out.

She didn't expect to face an arch-criminal early in her career, let alone two of them.

She poses in front of her mirror, acting silly and making faces, and then trying to look tough (which doesn't work, she's too cute) smiling at her reflection.

She pulls off her gloves, boots and dances around her room to music on her phone, she's excited her research paid off, and saw some action tonight.

She defeated Mr. Freeze before Batman arrived.

Unfortunately, Clayface managed to escape, well, save for his hand.

 

She hears applause, laughter, and voices from the television downstairs and realizes her father's already home from work.

She heard him chatting and another man's voice as well.

It seems they've got a guest tonight.

 She's too tired for this!

* * *

 

The sound of her father coming up the stairs spurs her, she dives under the comforter.

There isn't time to change before dad knocks on her door, she puts on reading glasses opening a textbook, pretending to have been studying as he opens the door.

  “Barbara, are you still up?“ and then opens her door, and steps in.

“Sure dad, I'm reading,” she explains breathlessly as she pulls the bedspread up to cover herself.

“Oh, that's good, in that case, can you come down for a few moments? I have someone over and I'd like to introduce you.”

After he leaves she yanks off her outfit and kicks her uniform beneath the bed and changes to street clothes and heads down.

The garbage bag on her dresser starts to squirm and shift and flings itself to the floor.

As Barbara heads down she hears her father and the other man laughing.

She paused in the middle of the stairs to peek through the banister.

“Barbara, come down here, I'd like you to meet Mr. Bruce Wayne,” her father calls.

Wayne raises his whiskey glass in a salute, grinning appearing wasted, nodding to her.

“I've heard so much about you, Miss Gordon.” He says.

“Oh, hi,” Barbara replies, not feeling very excited to meet him. Oh yes, meeting an intoxicated friend of her father's, this will probably be dull. 

“It's not every night a millionaire comes to visit,” her father comments, thrilled to have such a famous guest.

“By the way, Jim, it's _billionaire,_ not millionaire _,_ ” Bruce corrects him, smirking and tapping him on the shoulder.

Jim chuckles, “My mistake, Wayne. Come on down Barb, we're just having a little drink together. Mr. Wayne here is dropping off some new equipment for the boys at the GPD. Thermoscopic goggles, radio-frequency jammers, and, uh, what do you call those things again, Wayne?”

“Rebreathers, they're called rebreathers, Jim. You can thank Lucius Fox and his outstanding military division, I'm just a handsome delivery boy.”

Jim proceeds, “I'm sure you're more than just a good-looking face at Wayne Enterprises, Mr. Wayne.”

“Nope! I just provide them with all of the money they need, and they do all the rest,” Bruce answers, grinning obtusely.

 

Jim asks his daughter, “Say Barb, didn't your class recently take a tour of Wayne Enterprises last month or so?”

“Yeah, Dad, we did. It was pretty interesting,” she replies.

Jim continues, “What a day that must have been! I'll just bet that this man... !”

Jim's cell phone rings interrupting their conversation and he excuses himself to take the call in the kitchen, leaving Barbara and Bruce Wayne alone in the den.

 

Bruce gives her an inebriated smirk until Jim is well out of the room, then he becomes sober and serious, and speaks to Barbara in a deep gravelly voice,

_“You've been acting quite recklessly tonight, Miss Gordon.”_

He now sounds _completely unlike_ the idiot of a man that she was just greeting.

Wasn't he just drunk and goofy a moment ago?

She's surprised by the sudden change in his personality, and answers, ”I have no idea what you're talking about Mr. Wayne. I mean, I'm flattered that you would even bother to notice me, really, but...”

_“But you're so out of your own level that it isn't even funny.”_

“Look, Mister Wayne, I think you must be confusing me with somebody else...”

 _“DNA, Barbara. You left large amounts of it at the parking garage,”_ Wayne continues speaking.

“Um, I did what now? I still have no idea what you're even talking about, Mister ...”

 _“Does your father know that you sneak out at night to have fights with dangerous criminals?”_ His voice is serious, almost threatening.

And the voice is unmistakably apparent now.

“Well, in that case, does my father realize that you've been doing the exact same thing at night on the streets, _Mister Wayne_?”

He warns her, “I'll grant now that I now know your little secret and you know mine. Your father is a man that I hold in high admiration and a man that I respect, and I'm warning you to never go out and do this again, it's much too dangerous.”

“Do what, now?” she said wide-eyed and innocently.

 _“Stop following The Batman!”_ he insisted.

“Actually,  _Bat-Woman_ was not following Batman... “

“That's what you're actually calling yourself?” he asked.

“ _She_ was following a lead. Batman arrived late. For the record, I think she was rather clever. I... that is  _she_ understood that Clayface had Mr. Freeze's ice cannon.”

“Listen to me, young lady, I had..." he corrected himself, " _Batman_ had a well-constructed plan, which you jeopardized.”

 _“By getting the job done?”_ she smirked and crossed her arms.

 

Bruce turned away, exasperated.

“Why am I even arguing with you, you're just a child! You shouldn't even be out on the streets this late past your bedtime!"

“ _Bat-Woman_ does not have a curfew!” she retorted angrily.

“All right, in that case, I'll tell you once and once only, if you do this again I swear that I'll break both of your legs to stop you! I'm not afraid to hurt you, Barbara if it means that you won't go out there and get yourself killed!”

She rolled her eyes at him.

There was no way that The Batman was going to break her legs, he was just lying through his teeth and trying to intimidate her, but she didn't frighten easily.

She wasn't giving up that quickly!

 

“So, uh, what type of DNA evidence did I leave behind?”

“Hair, Barbara. You left a lot of your hair behind”

“Well, then, that's easily solved. I can just cut it short, or tie it up in a ponytail, or keep it tucked inside of my uniform.”

“That is the wrong conclusion to draw from this conversation!" He exhales vigorously, annoyed at this stubborn girl, trying hard at gathering his thoughts. 

She's a handful already.

 

"And speaking of hair, you have some pieces of Basil Karlo attached to yours,” he observes. Bruce reaches over and plucks a lump of clay out of Barbara's hair, tucking it securely into a handkerchief in his jacket pocket.

“Well, thanks for chopping his hand off, by the way. Wait. . . hold, hold, hold, up a minute, you did a full DNA test on my hair in only **ten minutes**?” she asks him, shocked, her jjaw-dropping

“Well, I _am_ the world's greatest detective,” he smirks at her, crossing his arms confidently.

“You're certainly not the shyest person I've ever seen, God, what a show-off!”

She stares at him incredulously, wondering if he can he be any more of a jerk?

 

Jim returns to the den after finishing his phone call.

“I'm so sorry about that! You both won't believe what I just found out on the phone! There was an explosion at a parking garage where an arms deal was taking place. Now, according to witnesses, Two-Face got greedy with Mr. Freeze and tried to force a better deal, and it became violent. Luckily, Batman and . . . well, I guess a new associate of his, whoever she is, stepped in and took Freeze down. But Two-Face managed to escape. I didn't know that Batman has any partners.”

Barbara asked, “Dad, are you sure that it was Two-Face?” 

“How many criminals do you know with half of their face rendered down to a crisp?” her father declared.

“What I mean is, what if it was someone impersonating Two-Face?” she asks.

“An imposter, really? What makes you say that Barb?“ he asked thoughtfully.

 

Barbara thinks for a moment, assembling her thoughts, and then explains, “Harvey Dent used to come over your office a lot. He used to say to me how everybody deserves an equitable portion. You said that he got stingy with Mister Freeze? He doesn't appear like the kind of person that would want more than his fair share,” she reasoned.

Bruce responds, “Jim, did you ever hear of that old actor who went berserk and killed all of his other company members?”

“You talking about that guy Basil Karlo? Yeah, I definitely remember that guy. Didn't he play Dracula and the Wolfman in those old classic movies?” Jim asked.

"I don't follow the news much, but I've heard that he's quite a genius at using makeup and disguises,” Bruce replied.

“Yeah, that's what I deduced. They call him Clayface now,” Gordon recalled.

“Yeah, that's him, all right,” Bruce answers.

“No offense, Wayne, but I think you've watched one too many of that man's old monster movies!” Jim smiles at him.

“Yeah, you're probably right, I really do like those old movies!”

“Is that right? So do I. Do you have a favorite?” Gordon asks.

“Do I have a favorite movie? Hm," Bruce considers for a moment.

“Yeah. Do you? Which one?” Jim asks.

“Ah, well,” Wayne pauses to think. “I normally watch a lot of, uh, international films at home, I've had some really bad experiences in theaters,” Bruce answers.

Gordon understands, he didn't mean to bring up any old wounds, and he nods in sober agreement.

“Hm. I used to enjoy going out to movies a long time ago, but lately, it's all just a lot of over-the-top criminals. Back when I was your age, sweetie," he says as he turns toward Barbara, "crooks had a lot more personality and class, all they wore on their faces was a mask or hood...”

 

 

\---to be continued

 


	2. Creeping Hands And Monster Movies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something terrifying is creeping around the Gordon household.
> 
> Remember that severed hand? 
> 
> It's missing from where Barbara put it!
> 
> Jim likes bragging about all of Barbara's many talents to Bruce, who seems to be particularly impressed by the young woman's expertise, but she becomes quite embarrassed by all of the praise.   
> Parents can be so difficult!

 

**Meanwhile, the movie conversation continues:**

 

\- while Jim is blissfully unaware of the peculiar goings-on upstairs in Barbara's bedroom.

 

"Like this character, Doctor Thomas Elliot, for instance. He's got a really dangerous look, dad. He's a doctor of medicine wrapped up like a mummy who wears a trenchcoat. They call him Hush." Barbara is explaining the famous criminal.

"Really? I haven't yet heard of the guy. She keeps track of all these fantastic costumed criminals, but they sound like they all come from comic books. Have you ever heard of this, ah, mummy wrapped-doctor before, Bruce?"

"Actually, I believe I might have gone to school with him, Jim. His name sounds quite familiar."

"Hmm, well, that's your peers, Bruce. Now, Batman, I can't figure that guy out at all. I want to assume that he's doing the right thing for Gotham, but sometimes it's a trial picking up after him and the wreckage he leaves behind."

"I certainly can agree with you, sir. Batman can't be our long-term answer. We need to toughen up the police and the justice system, that's what our city really needs right now. As long as that Batman answers to the police department and to the city of Gotham, the fool can go kill himself in any way that he wants to."

"He's not a fool!" Barbara sounds upset, she really believes in Batman.

Jim turns to his daughter, "You really admire that Batman, don't you, Barb?"

Barbara explains her views, "It's more than just that I admire him, dad. I feel that he reminds us that hope is a strength and not a weakness. He might not agree with me but I recognize that he has a lot of compassion with what he does, as well."

 "Yeah," Bruce added, "but I still think that what he's doing is really rash, even if he's trying to encourage Gotham's citizens to be good and decent people, at least I think he does. I don't think that he's doing good, necessarily. Maybe it's all about revenge or punishing the criminals or something."

"Well, maybe not to be a fool about it, but if someone wanted to fight crime like him, it's better that they'd follow his standards rather than some perverted version of it, like R'as Al Ghul's. And like R'as, Batman's not here just to persevere for us." Jim adds.

"That is a good point, Dad. Batman's not gonna last forever like R'as Al Ghul. He's not indestructible or eternal, at least I don't think he is. He's gonna die soon someday." She glares at Bruce with that last comment.

"He's not that old, Miss Gordon!" Bruce replies, feeling offended.

"Hm, Bruce, I think you're just annoyed that Batman keeps taking supplies from your Wayne Enterprise tech," Jim adds lightly.

"Well, Jim, now you can have the same tech as he has. Batman needs supplies, tech and probably capital, he certainly doesn't need any _sidekicks_ ," he adds, looking directly at Barbara.

"What I believe that Mr. Wayne is trying to say, is that if Batman forms any emotional attachments it might jeopardize what he's trying to achieve, and that might be why he doesn't want anyone to support him. Batman is so stoic 'cause he's got nothing to lose, but that's not always gonna be the case. I think he's really just terrified that he might have to face losing someone, just like everybody else does. I think what frightens him more is that there are going to be others just like him who want to help Gotham as he does. People out there who care and only want to keep Gotham safe, and when they see the Bat-Symbol in the night sky, the symbol that you installed there yourself, dad, they know they don't need to be afraid or troubled. Batman alone simply can't stop them from feeling like that. Someday Batman is going to have to face facts, he's not as separate as he thinks he is or as he wants to be..."

She suddenly stops the conversation, out of the corner of her eye, Barbara notices something stirring inside of Bruce's jacket pocket.

She begins to cough theatrically and shifting her eyes from Wayne's face toward his chest pocket to get Bruce to notice what's happening.

She continues speaking so that her father won't notice, "--and I think that even though he's dark and broody on the outside..."

Bruce finally sees where Barbara's eyes are pointing, and tries to keep a straight face, so as not to cause unnecessary alarm.  

"Ah, Jim, excuse me please, but where's your nearest bathroom?"

Jim directs him to the downstairs lavatory. 

"Thank you so much," Bruce replies.

 

"What an odd person that guy is," Jim admits.

"Yeah, but he looks a lot taller on TV though, don't you think so, Dad?"

"I know he's kind of a private and well-off guy, but I'm sure that he means well, even if his personal life is a bit, ah, extreme. Just don't ask him what he does with his available time, he seems like a real Casanova type. God only knows what he gets up to when he's alone."

"Hah, yeah dad, it's probably criminal what he gets up to!" Barbara remarks.

 

Jim's phone rings again. "I'll wait and answer it later, Barb."

"You really should get it, dad, it could be an important call if it's from work."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine, you should go and take the call."

"I suppose you're right, Barb."

 

Jim goes into the adjacent room and takes that call.

 

Bruce emerges from the bathroom as soon as Jim leaves and looks for Barbara.

"Barbara, quick! He'll only be gone for about thirty seconds, where's the rest of that hand?"

"I've got it upstairs in my room, I put it inside a trash bag!"

"Hurry, go get it _quickly_!"

 

Bruce takes a deep breath, he thought that this Clayface business was done for the night, but if the piece of clay from Barbara's hair has re-animated... then damn, they'd better get the rest of it, immediately.

Barbara bounds up the stairs two at a time to her bedroom. She grabs the trash bag, but she finds that it's empty and a hole has been punched through the bottom, a fist-sized hole!

Jim returns from his call and asks, "Bruce, I think your butler Alfred just called me, why would he do anything like that?"

Of course, Bruce requested Alfred to create a distraction while he was still in the bathroom, but he simply can't tell him that.

"Ah, well, you must understand that he's raised me since I was a young boy, and he gets quite overprotective of me, and I just remembered that I haven't bothered checking any of my text messages all night. At least he knows that I'm here with you and that I'm in safe hands."

"That's good," Jim answered thoughtfully.

"That's typical for Alfred, he's been like a father to me for the longest time." Bruce muses.

 

Bruce spots the hand of Clayface creeping on the floor of the den, and he hastily turns Jim around to face the other way. Acting quickly, he starts a new conversation.

"Ah, Jim, yes... I just wanted to thank you for everything that you've done for me in the past years, I'm not sure how I would have gotten through it all if it weren't for your help."

"Bruce, what you experienced as a small child, God, I wouldn't wish that on anybody. You've done so much humanitarianism for Gotham, and I want you to know that I appreciate everything you've done for the City and the Police Department. All of those incredible corporations you built, and all of that amazing tech you've provided. I myself waited until I was in my forties until I had a kid, and even then it was because I was hesitant to raise a child here. But I really want to make sure that Gotham becomes a safe place for Barbara to grow up and live out her days."

"I sincerely hope that comes true one day Jim." Bruce agreed.

 

Jim overhears some scuffling and then a loud thud echoes from upstairs.

 

He calls upstairs, "Barb? Are you all right up there?" 

"I'm fine dad, I just slipped!" she calls down a bit anxiously.

"Your daughter Barbara seems like a really sweet girl, Jim."

"Not only is she sweet, but she's very gifted. She does kickboxing, Muay Thai, and even acrobatics."

"She sounds very talented!" 

"And she has the most incredible balance, Let me go upstairs and check on her."

 

Barbara comes rushing from outside to the patio door and knocks on the glass furiously.

As Bruce lets her back in, she shoves an old sofa pillow into his hands. "Here, I reconfigured the molecules in Clayface's hand to make it into a furry pillow."

"How in the world did you manage that?" he asked incredulously.

" _It's just a joke, Bruce._ Geez! Don't you have any sense of humor? I just stuffed it into this crappy old pillow."

"Be careful, these are the types of mistakes that we can't afford to make!"

"Gee, I'm sorry! I didn't think that the pieces would defrost and re-animate again that quickly. Wait just one second . . . did you just say 'we'?"

 

Jim returns to the den, and Bruce hides the pillow behind his back.

"Are you okay Barbara? Sounded like you took quite a fall upstairs."

"Sure, I'm fine dad, I just got a little clumsy, it's late and I'm tired."  She believes it's fortunate that he's not asking how she got downstairs without passing by him.

"Well, I was just explaining to Bruce about all of your extracurricular pursuits."

"Yes, how in the world do you find the time to get all of it done?" Bruce asks, raising his eyebrow.

Barbara notices that the pillow behind Bruce is now sprouting long thin tendrils of wet clay that are progressing quickly, as the clay within is attempting to escape its confines.

Her eyes grow wide on seeing that, and she loudly yelps, " **Coffee!** Yes, I find the time --  **with coffee**!" she needs to get Bruce's attention once more.

This Clayface thing is becoming madcap!

"Barb, you stay up all night on that computer all..." Jim says.

 _"Dad!"_ she says, annoyed.

"Not that I really mind, she's a computer wizard," he continues.

 _"Dad."_ she's growing flustered by his bragging.

 "She really helps me a lot on my taxes..." Jim continues, oblivious to his daughter's distress.

"You don't say, Jim!" Bruce says admirably.

"It's nothing very special, I just do some basic coding and such," Barbara says, sheepishly. She doesn't enjoy getting so much attention focused on her.

"She practically hacked into Falcone's emails once to..." Jim continues.

 _ **"Daaad!"**_ she's becoming exasperated with all of her father's talk.

"That sounds like a lot more than just basic coding, Jim." Bruce agrees.

"That was an accident, honestly!" Barbara says, anxiously blushing.

"Hacking into the biggest, well, second biggest mob in Gotham? That was not an accident. I'm very proud of you sweetie. Just don't ever do it again." Jim says, with mild admonishment.

"Well, Jim, that's very impressive, but is that even legal?" Bruce questions.

"Well, she was online anonymously, and we really don't have any actual proof that it was her, but tell Mister Wayne how I knew it was you, Barb!" he says proudly.

She glowers at her father. "Well, um,  I misspelled a word, NECESSARY. I always get messed up on how many 'C's ' and how many 'S's' " She blows her cheeks out, feeling very annoyed.

"She always misspells that word, but it gave us enough information to arrest five murderers, and save the lives of a couple of missing persons, so she only got grounded for two weeks for that."

 

Clayface's dissolved hand has escaped the pillow and re-formed again into its normal shape, and was now inching along on the floor.

 

Bruce turns and stares at it, and Barbara follows his line of vision and looks agitated.

 

This night is growing worse and worse!

 

\--TO BE CONTINUED

 

 


	3. Distractions, A Creepy Creeping Hand, and Finally, An Understanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce and Barbara need to re-capture that rogue hand without Jim noticing.
> 
> Bruce is impressed with Barbara's many talents, even if she's upset by all of her father's bragging.
> 
> Barbara comes up with some very clever ideas and helps to apprehend that creeping hand.
> 
> Jim gets a call, Basil Karlo has turned himself in, and he bemoans that only wants his hand back.
> 
> Bruce and Barbara ultimately come to an understanding of why Barbara is so committed to his mission, and have a truce and an agreement.

**There's a sticky slimy looking clay hand crawling along the floor in the Gordons' Den**

 

Barbara signals with her eyes to look in the next room with to Bruce, fortunately, her father is still facing Bruce and doesn't notice what's going on behind him. 

"Did you...” Jim begins, but his phone rings again. “Who could it possibly be this time?”

He leaves the room to take yet another call from the station. It's rarely this busy.

 

Bruce throws the empty pillow back to Barbara while studying the hand creeping across the floor.

He tries stomping on it, but it's not stopping it at all.

Meanwhile, Barbara goes into the kitchen and plugs in the waffle iron and turns it to the highest setting, while Bruce continues trying to control the creeping clay-like mass.

 

Bruce asks: "What are you doing now? This is no time to make waffles!" wondering why she's turning on the waffle maker.

Barbara turns and notices that the hand has moved again.

"Uh, Mister Wayne?"

"What is it now?"

Barbara points out the hand that's now slithering up the counter right next to him.

Bruce tries bashing it with both his fists. Brute force doesn't appear to accomplish anything, though.

Well, it is only clay after all, even if it's sentient.

"You should have never gotten yourself tangled in this business, Barbara!" Bruce berates her.

"Then teach me how! Teach me what to do, please," she entreats.

Bruce tells her sharply, “No, absolutely not! It's much too dangerous!"

 

The hand wraps itself around Bruce making him panic and he yelped like a little girl. _"Yipes! Oh, no!”_

The slimy clay is now completely encasing both of Bruce's hands and he can't tear it off, as hard as he works.

 It's stuck like glue to him.

 

Barbara pulls a large and heavy knife from the kitchen drawer as Bruce continues to struggle with the viscous clay-like substance.

She points to the counter: "Get your hands up on there, quickly!"

She chops the clay in half between his hands, but it's now wrapped itself around each of his fists, rendering his hands unusable.

He looks anxious.

Barbara questions out loud, "How does this stuff even work?”

 

Bruce continues struggling against her as she pulls it off one of his hands, but his struggling is making it even harder for her to help him.

“What are you, nervous or something?” she asks.

Bruce says, “I stopped trying to examine this stuff a long time ago! I have no idea how it works.“

 

Now his sentient clay-covered hand has grabbed a hold of the knife and is pointing it towards both him and Barbara.

Barbara's eyes widen and she asks apprehensively, "Um, Bruce? _Why_ _are you pointing the knife at us?"_

" **I'm** not the one holding the knife!” he says, appearing somewhat hysterical.

He moves his free hand to the left and to the right, the knife tracks it back and forth.

 

They look at each other incredulously.

The damned thing is alive and it's following them both!

 

* * *

 

Jim is still in the other room speaking on the phone, saying,

 

_“Uh huh. He's standing right there?_

_Well, then cuff him!_

_Well, why not?_

_Well, then just cuff the hand that he does have!_

_Well, I don't know, maybe he wants to use it for something...”_

* * *

 

Barbara now has collected the complete blob of clay with the knife going through it, and quickly closes it into the burning hot waffle-iron and smashes down the cover holding it closed firmly for a few minutes until it stops steaming, finally, and extracts the solid clay waffle.

"Wow, I'd never have thought of that!" Bruce exclaims, impressed.

"That's called planning ahead!" Barbara tells him, as she takes a roll of aluminum foil and cuts off a large sheet, and places Karlo's waffled clay hand in it, while Bruce presses the foil firmly around enclosing it.

"Did my dad also mention that I take pottery classes, too?" she says smugly.

 When Barbara turns and returns to the den once more, Bruce removes his watch and leaves it on the counter in the kitchen.

* * *

 

 Jim returns and explains his unusual phone call to the both of them, "You two are never gonna believe what happened tonight. Basil Karlo just turned himself in."

"You're kidding, dad!" Barbara says in surprise.

"No, he admitted to the whole deal with Victor Fries, and he says he just wants to have his hand back. They're saying that he's acting like he's in a lot of pain. Well, I've got to go down to the station to be there for the cross-examination. I'm sorry about this, Barb. It seems that the only nights I get to have with my daughter are the ones where Batman relieves the pressure."

"It's okay, dad, you have a job to do. I understand."

Bruce adds, "I should be going too, commissioner. Hope you and your force enjoy the new tech. I'll be seeing you around.”

He nods to Barbara, “Goodnight, Miss Gordon”

"What a night, right? Wait until your friends at school find out who you've been hanging out with! Well, if I'm going to the department I'd better go take a coat."

 

"Wait! Dad, he left his watch behind!"

She grabs the watch and runs out after Bruce.

Jim calls after her, " _Ask him about internships!"_

 

* * *

 

Bruce is waiting outside by his car.

“Mr. Wayne... you forgot your watch!” 

"You can call me Bruce, and I didn't forget it. Anything you'd like to say before I leave?"

"Look, I'm sorry you that you don't approve of me ... "

"Stop making apologies," he says cutting her off.

"I can't hit all the neighborhoods myself and unless we both help..."

"Barbara, it's my duty to do this, not yours."

"But he needs this, Bruce, he needs the both of us." she declares.

"He needs you to stay at home, safe and protected," Bruce counters.

"He's going to die, Bruce! This town will kill him, he's already got a bad heart. I've already lost my mom, I refuse to lose my dad, too!"

"I'm sorry to hear that. How did she die?"

"She's not dead, Bruce, she left us, she left Gotham and her family," Barbara replies and looks pained.

"Oh. I'm really sorry to hear that Barbara."

"Look, if you don't want me around maybe we can split up the city. I can take on minor crimes while you take on the super-villains!"

Bruce explains to her, "That emblem on your costume, it's more than just a Bat symbol, Barbara. It's something more significant, something you don't understand...”

 

Bruce stops mid-sentence as some kids are crossing the street nearby.

 _”Dammit! Act natural, Barbara,”_  he mutters.

 

"Nice wheels, man!" a young man remarks.

 

“Thank you," Bruce nods.

 

Bruce makes up a pointless conversation in case the kids are listening, and Barbara easily picks up on it and follows along with him.

 

\--"So, If you never spent a year in Bhutan with him, how are you going to try his rice?”

\--"And vegetables, right?" Barbara adds.

\--"Oh, yeah. Vegetables if you're very lucky. But mostly rice. And there's snow there too, lots and lots of snow.”

 

He pauses to see how far away the teenagers are, they're now far down the street and sufficiently out of earshot.

 

Bruce continues on from before, “There are some circumstances that you don't yet understand so you have two options, you can either change your uniform, or you can meet me on top of the Acme Chemical Building tomorrow night and begin your training."

"Really, you mean it?" she beams excitedly.

"There's no use in arguing with you, you're much too stubborn. Even if I break both of your legs you're going to find a way to do this. But you're still young, and you're going to have a lot to learn...  ** _Batgirl_**.”  

He opens the car door and gets in.

"Um... Wait, Bruce!  What time should I get there?"

"You'll know when."

"I will?  How?"

Bruce points skyward to the Bat-Signal in the clouds.

 

He starts the car and drives off.

 

Barbara turns to watch him leave, and she lets out a breath that she didn't realize she was holding and smiles.

She admits that she's definitely going to have a lot to learn, but at least she's going to be attaining her skills from the best in Gotham,

The Batman, himself!

She can hardly believe that he's accepted her as a trainee. Or a sidekick. Or maybe even a partner, one day.

She sighs, happily.

 

\---End?

Or is this just the beginning?


End file.
